Lucky (33 page)

Paige’s hand did not budge. If she moved it up a couple of inches she would feel the strength of his reaction.

She didn’t have to move it. She knew.

‘You’re a very sexy man, Gino,’ she said, making sure her words were for his ears only.

‘An’ you’re not a bad lookin’ broad,’ he replied, playing the game and enjoying it.

‘Don’t you think,’ she said, very softly indeed, ‘it’s high time we did something about it?’

He hadn’t played around on Susan. He had been faithful.

Screw faithful. He felt hotter than he had in a long while. To tell the truth, Susan was not the greatest in bed. Too damn ladylike. She was a fantastic wife if you liked tasteful parties, and needlepoint, and weekends in Palm Springs knocking a dumb golf ball around.

Paige, unobserved by the rest of the table, and cloaked by a long cloth, was moving her hand up and rubbing his hard-on. He almost groaned aloud.

‘Yeh,’ he encouraged gruffly.

‘Call me at my office,’ she responded, with one final squeeze. ‘Soon. Very soon.’

Lennie had not expected the cover. Not the goddamn cover of
People
magazine.

Everyone was impressed.

Except Alice.

Naturally.

She had called in a fury. ‘I’m hardly mentioned’, she screamed. ‘There’s no picture of me. Are you trying to sabotage my chance of a career too?’

He just didn’t believe her. ‘C’mon–-’ he began.

‘No.
You
come on’, she yelled. ‘I’ve written them a letter. I want an apology. I want them to do a piece on me.’

There was no satisfying Alice. Instead of being proud of his success she was jealous. His own mother jealous! It was ridiculous.

The twins insisted on throwing a party for him. They were flourishing, having landed a series of highly lucrative toothpaste commercials which had made them into visible personalities. Suna was dating a plastic surgeon, and he allowed the party to take place in his Coldwater Canyon house complete with jacuzzi and tennis court.

A hundred people were invited.

Two hundred turned up.

The plastic surgeon served Mexican food. A raucous rock group played loud music (courtesy of Shirlee, she was going with the drummer). And a wild time was had by all.

Lennie found himself, at four in the morning, bombed out of his mind and naked in the jacuzzi with three girls and an assortment of drugs supplied by kindly well-wishers. He dragged on a joint as two of the girls snorted coke and the third nearly drowned while trying to go down on him.

Was this stardom?

Was this having it all?

Free drugs and too much pussy. There had to be
more
than this.

He was glad Jess had left. He knew her feelings on ‘letting things get out of control’.

‘Whatever you do, Lennie’, she had told him earlier in the evening, ‘don’t turn into an asshole.’

He knew exactly what she meant. But couldn’t he be an asshole for just one night? How many times in life did you get to be naked in a jacuzzi with three hot females and as many drugs as you could handle?

One of the girls had enormous boobs. She straddled him against the side of a jet, and dangled them near his face. He caught a nipple in his mouth and went for it.

One of the other girls, equally well endowed, decided to get into the act. She crammed the tip of her right boob into his mouth.

Now he was sucking on the two of them, and the aqua baby was sucking on him.

He felt lift off.

The zoom.

The peaking.

The throb.

The landing.

Jeeeeesus!

Nothing like being a star.

He wanted to go home. He pushed away female flesh and leapt from the pool. People were littered around in various stages of undress. He picked his way over bodies, found his clothes and dressed.

His car waited in the driveway. Jess had stuck a note on the windshield.
‘Asshole’
she had written.
‘Drive carefully.’

He did. All the way to her apartment which was one block away from his.

She ushered him in without complaining, fed him black coffee, and they sat around talking until the morning sun was bright in the sky. He let it all out. His high at finally making it. The constant nagging feeling in his gut that it was just temporary – that maybe he shouldn’t get too excited – it wasn’t going to last.

‘You’ll last,’ she assured him. ‘This is just the start.’

‘From your lips . . .’

They hugged tightly. He started to say something about Eden, then changed his mind.

Jess fixed him bacon and eggs and put him to sleep in her bed. Fortunately it was Sunday. No work. No grind.

She went into the other room and called Matt. They had kept in touch. When Gino Santangelo got married and left Vegas he had promoted Matt to general overseer of everything concerning the Magiriano. The only person Matt had to answer to was Gino himself.

He was always delighted to hear from her. Even more delighted that in a few days she would be returning to Vegas with Lennie. Only for a week, but it was better than nothing.

Six months previously, before Lennie was really hot, he had booked him to appear in the main room of the Magiriano, sharing top billing with Vitos Felicidade. What a coup! When he had booked them neither had been a big star. Now they both were.

‘Want to release us from our contract?’ Jess joked, as she had been doing for the last couple of months.

‘You’re cute.’

‘Thank you.’

‘What can I do for you today?’

‘Just wanted to check details.’

‘You’ve checked them a hundred times.’

‘I’m meticulous.’

She liked her talks with Matt. In a funny sort of way she almost missed him. She wondered if he still weighed himself down with gold chains, blow-dried his hair, and hit on every showgirl in town. Somehow she had thought he might visit her in LA, but he never had. ‘Too busy,’ he’d explained, when she’d asked him once.

She knew about busy. Lennie’s career kept her on the go. No time for anything else. Not even a personal life. In two years she had indulged in only one affair. A sometime actor with spectacular pectorals, amazing thighs, rock hard everything else, and the brain of a retarded teenager. Their affair lasted exactly six weeks. It was all she could take of fantastic sex and nothing much else. When they parted he suggested she become his manager. His manager! Sleeping with him was ordeal enough!

After talking to Matt she pulled on shorts and a T-shirt, checked that Lennie was asleep, and drove down the hill to Carl’s Market where she picked up groceries and the papers. She couldn’t help worrying about Lennie. Eden Antonio still had a hold on him. He wasn’t going to feel really good about anything until he put her behind him once and for all. And how was he going to do that when he wasn’t even seeing her?

Jess frowned. She had never met Eden, but she had heard enough stories to know the woman was a spoiled bitch living with some rich mafiosa hood, and ambitious as hell. A few days in her company would surely allow Lennie to see her for what she really was?

Wishful thinking.

He was hooked.

The only way he could get unhooked was to do it himself.

*   *   *

Eden stared at the cover of
People
and bit down hard on her lower lip. Sonofabitch! The bastard had actually made it. Who would have thought Lennie Golden would ever get himself on the cover of
People
? Not her for one. As far as she was concerned Lennie had limited talent. Oh sure, he was a great lay. But fine cocksmanship did not a cover make.

She narrowed her topaz eyes and glared at his picture. He was grinning. At her? Like –
listen baby, I told you I’d make it. Now what the fuck are you doing?

What
was
she doing?

Not enough.

Not nearly enough.

She was living in the house Santino Bonnatti had bought her like a virtual prisoner. He kept her locked up on Blue Jay Way with a chauffeur-bodyguard to take care of her every need. That’s what Santino had said when he installed the goon as if he were doing her a favour. This is Zeko. He’s gonna look after ya, an’ drive ya around. He’s gonna take care of your every need. Okay, bunny rabbit?’

What was she supposed to say? No? It was either put up with what Santino wanted or get out of the relationship fast. And she was too smart to get out before the moment was right. Santino was the key to her future, and while it was taking time, she knew it would happen – eventually.

Now, at last, there was a decent script, an interesting director, and a legitimate producer – Ryder Wheeler. The film was titled ‘My Life as a Call Girl’, and she was to star in it. Santino was putting up most of the money, and he was also executive producer.

Eden was excited. It had taken a long time coming.

Zeko entered the room without knocking and stared at her. He had one real eye and one glass. It gave him a crazed look. He was six feet four inches tall and bald as a baby’s ass. She was sure he spied on her when she took a bath in her beautiful marble bathroom with the glass wall and thick foliage outside. She could imagine him crawling through the prickly cactus to catch a peak. Perversely she did not install window shades. Let him look if that’s what turned him on. Occasionally she would part her legs and stroke her golden pussy, give him a real show.

‘Yes?’ she asked haughtily.

‘I’m gonna get Mr Bonnatti now,’ he said.

‘Go ahead,’ she said dismissively.

It was past noon and she was not dressed. She wore silk pyjamas and high-heeled mules. Santino always visited after Sunday lunch with his family, an event which seemed to make him exceptionally horny. In a perverse way she had grown to enjoy his attentions. He was everything the other men in her life had
not
been. He had an attitude of being able to get anything he wanted – and this seemed to make up for his lack of physical attributes. Sometimes he was a little kinky, and a couple of times he had gotten carried away and hurt her. But ultimately she felt she was still calling the shots. Santino obviously adored her, and so he should. Where else would a man like him find a woman like her?

She had found out how he made his money, and it wasn’t from importing olive oil and coffee. Santino Bonnatti dealt in pornography and drugs. She shivered and glanced once more at Lennie’s picture, then discarded the magazine and went into the bathroom to shower and dress. Santino liked her squeaky clean, in contrast to his wife, who, according to him, only took one bath a week.

After showering she inspected her closet. So many clothes, and so little opportunity to wear them. Santino only took her out in public once in a while, although he had mentioned that soon they might be having dinner with Ryder Wheeler and the new director at Chasens. She looked forward to the occasion, and planned what to wear. The sensational red Halston with the ruby necklace he had given her on her birthday. At times he was very generous. There had to be
some
compensations for putting up with a man like Santino Bonnatti.

Vitos called. Not a moment too soon.

‘Let’s party’, Olympia said.

‘Lasta time we party you go offa weeth Flash, you leava Vitos alone. No nice for Vitos.’

‘Did
I do
that? I didn’t
mean
to.’

‘Now Vitos beeg star you want heem again. Why I shoulda?’

‘Because you’ll get your dick sucked just the way you like it.’

‘Oleeempea!’

He collected her in a white stretch limo, and they partied all over town. For once Olympia did not snub the lurking paparazzi. Instead she posed for them, one arm around Vitos’ neck.

He responded nicely. In America publicity was the name of the game. And who better to play it with than one of the richest women in the world?

Not that he considered Olympia a woman. She was girlish, like an excitable puppy. She was also a lot plumper than the last time they had been together. In bed it didn’t bother him. He had always liked females with meat on their bones. Olympia had more than meat, she had potatoes and vegetables too. Undressed she was roly-poly.

He enjoyed making love to her. He sank his teeth into rolls of sweet-smelling flesh. Buried his head between suffocating thighs. Grazed among the wonders of her very large breasts.

She liked to climax several times. She was not easy to please, and at the end of two hours they were both bathed in sweat and exhausted.

‘Why don’t we get married?’ Olympia suggested, bunching a pillow behind her and sitting up in bed.

Vitos smiled. Wonderful teeth. A matinee-idol smile. It was a shame his hair was thinning.

‘Whatta you mean, Ol
eee
mpeea?’

She squinted at him. He was handsome, but dumb. Flash – with all his drug problems – was ten times the man Vitos was.